


Hide Your Love Away

by tracy7307



Category: The Eagle | Eagle of the Ninth (2011)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Amnesia, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-31
Updated: 2012-03-31
Packaged: 2017-11-02 20:13:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/372944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tracy7307/pseuds/tracy7307
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a tragic car accident, Marcus cannot remember any of the last five years, which includes his relationship with Esca.  Five years ago, he was deeply closeted and ashamed of his homosexuality.  Esca has to deal with the aftermath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hide Your Love Away

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my betas/cheerleaders: [](http://lallyloo.livejournal.com/profile)[**lallyloo**](http://lallyloo.livejournal.com/), [](http://myashke.livejournal.com/profile)[**myashke**](http://myashke.livejournal.com/), [](http://ninja-orange.livejournal.com/profile)[**ninja_orange**](http://ninja-orange.livejournal.com/), and [](http://seascribe.livejournal.com/profile)[**seascribe**](http://seascribe.livejournal.com/). Loosely based on _The Vow_

**Title:** Hide Your Love Away  
 **Written for:** [](http://winterstorrm.livejournal.com/profile)[**winterstorrm**](http://winterstorrm.livejournal.com/) for [](http://eagle-exchange.livejournal.com/profile)[**eagle_exchange**](http://eagle-exchange.livejournal.com/)  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Pairings:** Marcus/Esca, Cottia/Placidus  
 **Word Count:** 10,376  
 **Content labels:** amnesia, angst, rimming  
 **Summary:** After a tragic car accident, Marcus cannot remember any of the last five years, which includes his relationship with Esca. Five years ago, he was deeply closeted and ashamed of his homosexuality. Esca has to deal with the aftermath.  
 **Author's Notes:** Many thanks to my betas/cheerleaders: [](http://lallyloo.livejournal.com/profile)[**lallyloo**](http://lallyloo.livejournal.com/) , [](http://myashke.livejournal.com/profile)[**myashke**](http://myashke.livejournal.com/) , [](http://ninja-orange.livejournal.com/profile)[**ninja_orange**](http://ninja-orange.livejournal.com/) , and [](http://seascribe.livejournal.com/profile)[**seascribe**](http://seascribe.livejournal.com/). Loosely based on _The Vow_  
 **Disclaimer:** No copyright infringement intended; no profit is being made from this endeavour.

They say that the colour black is associated with evil.

Esca thinks they might be right.

He sits in the hospital because of the black ice, a phantom demon on the road. No matter how hard Esca tried to turn the wheel, there was no gaining control. It sent their car flying first into the median, then into a concrete wall. They crashed head-on, a sickening crunch of metal, airbag powder choking them and blocking their vision. Esca’s Mazda spun once and sent the rear end smashing into the wall.

They’d been at Cottia and Placidus’s house for dinner. Esca and Marcus squeezed hands under the table as Cottia and Placidus traded barbs over the crème brulee. _Apparently this is their mating ritual_ , Esca whispered to Marcus’s ear.

_That’s one fucked-up form of foreplay,_ Marcus whispered back, and Esca smiled, thinking of the many tricks Marcus kept up his sleeve to turn Esca on.

Because of the black ice, Marcus was never able to do any of the filthy things he talked about on the drive home.

Because of the black ice, Esca sits next to Marcus’s bed, his hand wrapped around Marcus’s. The blips and beeps of the Intensive Care Unit’s machines surround them, and Esca can almost hear Marcus joking about it all: _Sounds like we’re in a video game, doesn’t it? Do you think the doctors are playing a massive game of Pong?_. Esca huffs a humourless laugh.

Marcus isn’t joking because he isn’t conscious.

Esca hates the colour black.

~*~

At first, Esca thinks he’s dreaming. It’s the middle of the night, and the only lights are the ones that filter through the curtain separating Marcus’s room from the hallway. They highlight everything in an artificial off-white. Marcus’s machines glow blue and green around him. Esca shifts on the uncomfortable hospital couch in Marcus’s room, dreaming of Marcus’s voice. “Hey. Uh, hey.”

Gradually, the words come more sharply into focus: “Hey. Excuse me.” Esca flips over to face Marcus and his heart beats rabbit-fast, all elation, as he sees Marcus’s green eyes looking down at him. He’s about to jump to his feet and kiss those ridiculous _hey_ s from Marcus’s lips when Marcus says, “aren’t you in my lit class?”

Esca stops dead in his tracks.

He _was_ in Marcus’s lit class – five years ago.

~*~

The series of conversations that follow are like the dialogue of a nightmare. He speaks with the nurse, several doctors, Cottia, and Uncle Aquila, and they all agree with the course of action.

Marcus has retrograde amnesia and cannot remember any of the last five years.

Five years ago, Marcus was at university and was deeply closeted. Marcus had revealed to Esca bit by bit the shame he felt at his homosexuality – puzzle pieces of a picture of misery. Marcus hadn’t known what to do with his feelings. _Until you came into my life,_ Marcus said, _I was falling apart._

Uncle Aquila sits down next to Marcus’s bed and tells him nearly everything: about the car accident, the current year, what Marcus has been up to these five years, and about his job at the local high school as a phys ed instructor.

When Esca walks in on cue and is introduced as Marcus’s best friend and roommate, his heart sinks to his shoes.

For five years Esca helped Marcus move past his insecurities and self-loathing. He helped Marcus to feel handsome and loved, confident in himself and his sexuality. He spent long hours listening to Marcus, his flirting very carefully orchestrated alongside Marcus’s growth into acceptance. Only when the time was right did Esca kiss Marcus, snuggled up against his side on Marcus’s couch.

The doctors assure Esca that in all likelihood, Marcus will regain his memory. It might be days, weeks or even months. The brain’s a tricky thing, they say. Until then, Esca’s agreed to play this charade.

Now, Marcus looks up at Esca with nothing more than a small smile – a smile you’d give to your best friend.

It’s a moment for which Esca has steeled himself. “How are you feeling, Marcus?” Esca asks. He keeps his stance casual even though his hands twitch with want of touch and his body sings with the desire for Marcus’s embrace.

“Uh, alright I guess,” Marcus replies. “Just been getting these awful headaches now and then.”

“Doctors say those’ll fade.” Esca sits on the couch next to Uncle Aquila.

“Hopefully sooner rather than later.”

“I’m certain your head will turn out fine, my dear Marcus,” Uncle Aquila says as he rises and pats Marcus’s shin. “You always did have an abnormally thick skull, after all. Must have been from all those years of taking a soccer ball to the head in high school.”

“Uncle!” Marcus says with a grin.

“I only speak from a place of love, nephew. Now if you’ll both excuse me, I have a bridge tournament to attend. Do call if you need anything,” he says, looking pointedly at the notepad on the side table with a list of numbers.

“I will. Thank you, Uncle.”

Uncle Aquila smiles, pulls the curtain closed behind him, and chatters loudly with the nurse about her shoes and their comfort level before his voice fades away.

Marcus smiles at Esca. “Eccentric, isn’t he?”

“Always has been.”

Marcus’s smile falters slightly, and Esca realizes that Marcus doesn’t know that Esca’s been previously acquainted with Uncle Aquila.

“The first time I met him he discussed facial hair with me for forty-five minutes. He insisted that I should grow my sideburns into mutton chops and thought I had the right look about me to bring it back into fashion.”

Marcus laughs. “Sounds just like him. Did you do it?”

“No. He throws out these wild suggestions and hardly expects anyone to follow them.”

“That he does. How long ago did you meet him?”

Esca thinks on it for a moment. “About four years ago. You took me back to stay at Longfield over Christmas break.”

“Well that was kind of me.” Marcus smiles and it reaches the corners of his eyes. Esca’s heart twists a bit.

“Yes it was. I didn’t have anywhere to go, so you offered. Longfield is beautiful at the holidays. Your uncle’s grounds are breathtaking.” He remembers getting bundled up, a massive snow fight, Marcus’s cheeks red with cold, and kissing in front of the fireplace that night.

Marcus looks over at Esca, a quick glance before looking back down at his hands folded in the sheets covering his lap. Esca would almost say it was shy. “So we’ve been friends for these last five years?”

“Yeah,” Esca says, thinking carefully of how to proceed. “We met at Uni.”

“I remember that,” Marcus is still focused on his fingers. “I remember seeing you in my lit class. You were wearing glasses with thick black frames. You sat two rows over during lecture.”

“That’s right,” Esca says and curls his toes, digs his fingernails into his palm to not let it spill about what _really_ happened after that. “The professor paired us up for a project. We exchanged information and you haven’t been able to shake me since.” _At least that much is true,_ Esca thinks.

Marcus looks back over to Esca’s face. “And the glasses?”

“Lasik surgery two years ago,” Esca taps the corner of his eye. “You took care of me for three days while I wore these ridiculous goggles. You brought me food and read to me as I couldn’t quite see properly.” _You read Rumi’s love poetry to me. You kissed me so lightly, all over my body. It was the most sensual experience of my life,_ Esca doesn’t say.

“So we’re roommates?”

“Yes. When we starting spending time together I was living with this bloke who loved to drink my beer and eat my food. Oh, and occasionally I’d walk in on him shagging some random on the sofa.”

“Sounds charming.”

“Liathan claimed his French charm and supreme lovemaking skills shouldn’t be confined only to his bedroom.”

“But the girls he brought back must have been mortified.”

Esca pauses, bites his tongue, and almost blurts out it was always a bloke riding Liathan’s cock. He _has_ to remember that this is Marcus of five years ago, still closeted and so uncomfortable in his own sexuality. “Yeah. Poor things couldn’t run fast enough.”

Marcus laughs and shakes his head.

“I moved in with you a year after we’d met. We’ve been” _a couple_ “living together since. And cheers for not eating my Cheerios.”

“Anytime.” Marcus smiles and glances over to Esca then back at his fingers. A little blush forms on his neck. Esca knows this blush – he’s learned it well enough over the years; Marcus is attracted and he’s embarrassed, which means it’s time for a retreat.

A retreat that Esca doesn’t necessarily want to make. He wants to go to Marcus, tell him how much he loves him, curl up next to him on that awful bed and joke about the terrible food and lack of porn on the telly.

“I should let you get some rest. Have to get that head of yours better, yeah?” Esca stands and fights the urge to walk over and kiss Marcus goodbye.

“Yeah. I could use a nap. Hey, thanks for visiting man, I really appreciate it.”

When Marcus holds out his hand for Esca to shake, another part of his heart shatters.

~*~

That night, Cottia knocks on Marcus and Esca’s door with a twelve-pack of pale ale in her hand, declaring in her best Bill Nighy imitation, “Let’s get pissed and watch porn!”

The more they drink, though, the more the gravity of the situation surfaces. Cottia holds Esca as he cries (and even cries with him), lets him bury his face in her hair, listens as he describes how fucked this whole situation is, and curls around him in Esca and Marcus’s bed when he passes out.

Marcus’s release is set for three days. She returns the night before and Esca holes up in the bedroom while she takes down every photo of Marcus and Esca, replacing them with generic photos of Marcus with his family and friends. She pulls all of the homosexual erotica books from the shelves, removes the statue of the male nude, and boxes everything.

Esca finds an appropriate song on his iPod as she works - the Beatles, _You’ve Got to Hide Your Love Away_ and puts it on repeat. She takes the box to her car, goes back up to the flat, knocks on the bedroom door once and opens it. She’s steeled herself, Esca can tell. He knows she wants to be strong for her him – it shows in the proud set of her slender shoulders, and her wavy red hair pinned up in a bun even means business, but her smile is all affection. He loves her for it.

She pulls Esca into a tight embrace. “I’ll hold it ‘til he’s ready,” she says softly against his ear.

“Until he’s ready,” Esca repeats, and hopes against hope that it’s the truth.

~*~

“Is this thing buckled up right?” Esca pulls at Marcus’s seatbelt, giving it several hard tugs, ensuring that it’s latched nice and tight.

“Dude, it’s fine.” Marcus gives an exasperated laugh. “Christ, I can still remember how to buckle my seatbelt, you know.”

“Yeah, sorry mate, I know. I just,” he waves his hand toward the dashboard and road. “I’m a little nervous, alright?”

“It’s fine,” Marcus says again. “I trust you.”

Esca drives for several minutes in silence when Marcus asks, “Hey how long have Cottia and Placidus been dating? Last I remember of them was how much they loathed each other at university.”

Esca laughs. “They did and to tell the truth sometimes I think they still do. They’ve been together four years now, living together for three.”

“That’s amazing. The way they used to fight, I thought sparks would fly off of them.”

“The sparks of passion, apparently. All of that fighting is some sort of massive turn-on for them. I’ve seen them row over how much salt should be poured in the salt shaker, and the next thing I know she’s got him pinned against the wall and a hand down his trousers.”

“That’s kind of a disturbing image.”

Esca nearly says _not as disturbing as the time when she pegged him then described it to us in great detail_ , but thinks better of it. It is anal sex, after all, and he doesn’t want to trigger Marcus’s shame. “You’ve no idea.”

Marcus asks Esca to tell him about himself, and Esca spends the remainder of the short drive detailing things he told Marcus five years ago – how his parents died unexpectedly when he was sixteen (which they’d connected over when they first met). As he had no other family, he came to America to live with his Aunt Mildred. Marcus doesn’t say anything but swallows heavily and nods.  
Esca tells Marcus how his degree in Environmental Science led him to his current position as a consultant to major corporations looking to go green, assessing their current carbon footprints, developing a plan for improvement with them, and advising them as they take their first steps toward becoming more environmentally friendly. He only stops with a laugh when Marcus’s eyes start to glaze over. “Yeah. You get that same look in your eyes when you ask how my day was and I start launching into my tirades.”

Esca grabs Marcus’s arm and steadies him when he stumbles on a step up to the flat – the doctors had told Esca that Marcus may exhibit clumsiness or lack of coordination (which prompted him to install a bath mat in the shower). Marcus smiles and tries to laugh it off but his face flushes red, and Esca can tell he’s embarrassed about his clumsiness.  
They enter the flat, and Esca shows him the living room, the kitchen, leads him down the hall to the bathroom and finally to the bedroom, where he puts Marcus’s duffle bag on the bed. “You usually keep your clothes in there,” he points to the dresser. “I’ve done your last load of laundry so everything’s clean and put away.”

“Thanks,” Marcus says. He’s distracted though, looking around at the four walls like he’s missing something. “Uh, not to sound dense or anything, man, but where is your room?”

Esca blinks. “I-” _come on Esca, why didn’t you think of this_ before _?_ “I sleep on the sofa. We’re skint, you know.”

Marcus pauses. “But, you’re a consultant to corporations and I’m a teacher. Our salaries can’t buy you a bedroom?”

_We stayed here because we’re saving up to buy a house._ “Yeah, they probably could, but we started off as poor students, didn’t we? We lived off Ramen noodles for nearly a year. We just never bothered moving after that. Moving is a pain in the arse, you always said.” Esca winces inwardly at his lie.

Marcus looks down at the bed. “I just feel bad that you don’t have, you know, a bed or anything.”

A red flush creeps up Marcus’s neck and if Esca knows anything about the way Marcus thinks, he’s sure Marcus is picturing Esca lying on the bed, probably in some naked, aroused state.

“Don’t worry, mate. It’s suited me fine for years, alright? I’ll leave you to get settled in, yeah? Come out to the living room when you’re ready. We’ve got five years’ worth of films to catch up on.”

~*~

Esca leaves Marcus and raids the linen closet to grab a spare sheet set and pillow and sets them next to the sofa to make it appear as if this is something he does nightly – making the couch up as his bed.

Twenty minutes later Marcus emerges and joins Esca on the couch.

“Right,” Esca says, “we have a lot of important catching up to do. You need to know that all of the Harry Potter books have been filmed and released on DVD, but there are two books that have been released in the last five years.” Esca holds up the _Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince_ and _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_ books which he’d retrieved from the shelves.

Marcus looks at the books as if ready to devour them. “Leave those for me to read.”

“I figured you’d want to read the books first and we’ll watch these,” he points to three DVDs, “after you’ve caught up. So I have a selection of some of your favourite films of the last five years. Maybe they’ll jog a memory or something.” Esca presents a small pile of DVDs.

Marcus picks up several films, carefully studying each cover as if looking at it long enough would make something happen. “Not remembering anything, but I think I’d like to watch this one.” He holds out _Avatar_.

Esca takes the DVD and swallows heavily. “Okay. Any reason you can think of why you chose this one?”

Marcus thinks for a moment. “Not anything specific. I just feel like I’d like it, I think. I mean, it looks cool and you said these were my favourites, right?”

“Yeah,” Esca says as he places the film in the player. “You enjoyed it quite a bit.”

_When they left the theatre two years ago, Marcus was still beaming. He described everything he liked about the film: its effects, the beauty of Pandora, the anti-war and Green messages, the liberation of the film’s hero, and most of all, the love story. In the middle of his parking-lot review, while walking to the car, Marcus reached out and took Esca’s hand, lacing his fingers calmly through Esca’s as if he’d done it a million times before._

_It was the first time Marcus had ever shown affection to Esca in public._

“Wouldn’t shut up about it for days, actually,” Esca forces a smile. “I had to convince you not to paint yourself blue after that.”

Marcus laughs. “Well. Now I’m curious.”

Esca makes popcorn as the films starts. He starts to pour it into the large bowl, and then thinks better of it as he doesn’t want to make Marcus uncomfortable. He divides the popcorn evenly between two smaller bowls.  
Everything feels like division lately. He divides his heart from his head, plasters on a smile, and settles down to watch the film.

~*~

When Esca goes back to work the next day, sore from a restless night on the lumpy sofa, he fondles his phone every five minutes. His finger hovers over the _1_ button; if he holds it long enough, it will call Marcus’s phone. Finally he gives in and asks his secretary to hold onto it. She accepts it with a confused nod.

After work Esca barely has one foot in the door when Marcus blurts out at him from the direction of the kitchen, “Holy shit, Dumbledore is dead and Snape is the Half-Blood Prince!”

Esca laughs as he sets down his briefcase and toes off his shoes. “Ready to watch the film?”

“Not before dinner,” Marcus says from around the corner.

“Ah, now this is a familiar sight,” Esca says as he enters the kitchen. Marcus is at the stove with a boiling pot and sauce simmering in a pan in front of him. “You arrive home from work before I do and usually take the extra time to cook supper for the two of us.”

Marcus shrugs. “Just figured that since I’m off work for the time being, it’s the least I could do.” He gives the sauce a stir. “Here, taste this.” He holds aloft a spoon with a bit of tomato sauce at the tip of it, keeping one hand cupped underneath in case of dripping.

This has been done so many times that Esca acts from muscle memory and steps close, folding his hand around Marcus’s to hold the spoon steady. He wraps his lips around the end of the spoon and tastes. “Tastes fantastic. Spicy this time. Did you use hot sauce?”

Marcus is frozen, his eyes trained on Esca’s lips. He looks like he wants to lean down and kiss Esca, but his eyebrows furrow, and Esca knows he’s rattled. A furious red flush spreads up his neck.

Esca pulls his hand back, trying to be inconspicuous. “Sorry, do I have something?” He wipes the back of his hand across the corner of his mouth. “Look at that. Can’t take me anywhere.” He turns on the faucet and washes away the imaginary sauce from his hands.

Marcus returns to the saucepan a moment later. “Yeah, I did use hot sauce. Thought the pasta would be nice with a bit of a kick.”

Esca watches a vision of the past play behind his eyes: he molds himself to Marcus’s back and wraps his arms around Marcus’s waist. _You like it spicy, don’t you_ , he says, low and hot against the back of Marcus’s neck. Marcus hums, pressing his ass back against Esca’s crotch. _You know I do, baby._ He turns, places a hand to Esca’s chest and gently pushes him back a step. _But not until after dinner._

~*~

Cottia and Placidus visit the next day. Cottia squeals and throws her arms around Marcus’s neck and begins a tirade. “I’m so glad you’re home! You fucking asshole! God I was so worried about you. Don’t you ever fucking do that to me again!”

Marcus looks like he’s not sure whether to be pleased or terrified. Eventually he laughs as she pushes him back, shakes his broad shoulders then pulls him back down into a hug. “Not like I could help it-”

“I know, honey.” Her embrace softens from frantic to gentle. “You’ll get better soon, okay? I know you will.”

“I hope so,” he says against her shoulder.

Placidus’s greeting is far less dramatic. They shake hands and nod but not much more, and Esca’s not terribly surprised at this as they really didn’t talk much at university. Marcus was always closer to Cottia.

They decide to head to the university’s Recreation Center for some racquetball as Marcus is developing cabin fever and longs for a bit of exercise. Esca plays first against Placidus and wins both games easily while Marcus plays against Cottia (she wins with a third game tiebreak).

They switch partners, and Cottia and Placidus exchange a loud bet about what the victor will win. Placidus, apparently, wants to tie her up and blindfold her that night if he wins, while Cottia simply says, “plug. The one that vibrates. And I get to control it.”

Esca chances a glance at Marcus out of the corner of his eye. His gaze is fixed on his racquet and the ball. It’s impossible to tell if the pink blooms on his cheeks are from embarrassment or physical exertion.

“Ready?” Marcus asks, and Esca nods.

Marcus wins the first game, and halfway through the second he stumbles while chasing Esca’s serve. “Shit,” he says with his palms splayed on the wood floor beneath him, trying to steady his legs under him and shove himself up.

Esca’s at his side immediately, holding out his hand. Marcus takes it and lifts himself.

“I think that’s enough for one day,” Marcus says with a self-conscious smile.

Esca agrees, and as they pack up, Cottia shouts her victory from the next court and tells Placidus they’ll need to stop on the way home and stock up on lube.

~*~

That night, well after Marcus has gone to bed, Esca slips quietly into the bathroom and hears a muffled sound coming from the other side of the wall, from their bedroom. He leans in closer to listen and feels a heat spreading through his stomach and pooling in his groin when he hears Marcus moan, low and long.

Esca’s eyes fall shut and he rubs the palm of his hand down over the bulge in his pyjama bottoms. The wall separating them is thin enough that they’ve carried on complete conversations through it in the past, so he places his forearm against the wall and leans forward to muffle his mouth against it.

He pants through his nose as he reaches past the waistband and grabs his cock, giving a few short tugs as he envisions Marcus on the other side, splayed out on the bed with his pyjama bottoms around his thighs.

_It had taken Esca six months of dating Marcus to build up to this moment. Their physical intimacy resembled a dance with Marcus in the lead; the more comfortable Marcus became, the farther Esca pushed him. Short, closed-lipped kisses began to linger and eventually Marcus’s lips opened under Esca’s. The progression was spaced over so much time that when Esca first felt Marcus’s tongue slide along his own, he nearly came in his trousers just from the sensation. Their kisses turned longer and needier. The night came when a film played on unwatched on the telly as they’d been snogging for the past half hour, licking into each other’s mouths and moaning over the unheard dialogue. Esca pressed himself flush to Marcus’s chest._

_“I want to see you, Marcus,” Esca said. Marcus looked a bit panicked and Esca added, “I just want to watch. Will you do that, Marcus? Will you let me watch you?”_

Esca strokes his cock as he envisions Marcus that night, lying back on the bed and blushing furiously with his jeans around his shins. Marcus’s hand was wrapped around his cock, and he fucked up into his fist while Esca watched from a chair at the foot of the bed, squeezing the bulge in his denim.

Esca pants through his nose as he hears Marcus moan in the bedroom again. He envisions the lube on the nightstand, cap flipped open. Marcus would be stroking himself, his big hand sliding up and down that gorgeous stiff cock, his cockhead all dark pink. Esca thinks of the salty taste of it, imagines Marcus’s contented hum when Esca slides his tongue over the sensitive slit. Marcus’s cock is too big to take all at once, so Esca would use his hand to jack Marcus while he sucks the head.

Esca pulls his hand out of his pyjamas to lick his palm and then slides it back under, strokes himself harder, remembering how Marcus once bent Esca over the sink and rimmed him until he was literally weeping then made Esca beg him for his cock.

He bites into his forearm to keep from making any sound as he fucks his hand. The lack of lube burns his cock a bit, but he pushes through it, brows furrowed while he remembers the sweet sensation of Marcus’s tongue lapping over his hole, the thrill as it slid inside just a bit.

From the other room, Marcus pants out, “Fuck, fuck, Esca, hnnn.”

Esca comes, spurting over his fist and the wall.

After his breathing slows and his heartbeat calms down, he cleans up his mess and silently creeps back to the couch, feeling so close yet a million miles away.

When he cries that night, he muffles it into his pillow and hopes that Marcus cannot hear.

~*~

“I have something for you to watch,” Esca says as he comes home from work several nights later and toes off his shoes.

“Add it to the queue,” Marcus says and points to the small pile of DVDs on the table. Slowly but surely they’ve been working their way through the pile. Marcus has taken to reading and working out during the day while Esca’s at work, and after dinner, they watch a couple films.

“Nope. This is a must-see. Your boss called me and said he had something for you to watch, so I picked it up on my way home.” Esca loads the disc in the player; it reads “For Mr. A.”

A man seated at a desk with grey hair appears on the screen. He’s surrounded by shelves of books. “Hi Marcus. I’m your principal, John Tifford, at McKinkley High School. Esca has been keeping me informed about your condition, but I wanted you to know just how much you’re missed around here.”

The film cuts to a girl standing in the hallway with multi-coloured lockers. A shock of electric pink hair falls out of her black hoodie and light glints off of her lip ring and nose piercing. “Hi Mr. Aquila!” she says brightly. “I’m Chelsea Anderson, class of 2012, and I’m your teacher assistant for your fourth hour. I help you get those ninth graders in line. You wrote me a letter of recommendation for Michigan State University. I haven’t told you yet, but _I got in!_ Pre-veterinary medicine! Thank you Mr. A! I can hardly wait till you come back! OH TWELVE!” She holds up the hand sign for Class of 2012.

A boy appears on the screen wearing an oversized t-shirt and baggy jeans trying so hard to appear too cool for his surroundings. “Whattup Mr. A. My name is Devontae. I’m in your fifth hour. When my ma lost her job and we got evicted, we was livin’ on the streets till you got her a job at Mr. MacCunoval’s office as a secretary. You even brought me food every day to take home for me and my little brothers and sisters. Now we livin’ in a nice apartment and I don’t have to share a room with my bad little brother anymore. Thank you, Mr. A. You a’ight.”

A middle-aged man wearing a track suit appears next. “Hi Marcus. I’m Tom Robbins, the head football coach. You better not stay away for much longer. I found I can’t get through the day without hearing your godawful jokes.”

A woman wearing a high, curly ponytail appears next. She’s standing in front of several black hexagonal tables and appears to only be four foot eleven. “Hi Marcus. I’m Sally Bitonti, the chemistry teacher. I might appear to be little, but don’t let that fool you. I can kick your ass six ways to Sunday. Get back here soon, buddy, we miss you.”

A large woman wearing a blue uniform, apron, and hairnet pops up on the screen with a smile stretching from ear to ear. “Hey baby. My name’s Vernice Green and you flirt with me every day when you come down to my line to buy your lunch. ‘When are you going to let me buy you dinner, Neesy’ you say to me! Well. If you come back to school I might just let you, baby!”

The video goes on in a similar manner through several other staff members and students, each detailing how Marcus has affected their life at school, before ending on a long shot of the bleachers filled with the student body and faculty. In unison they say, “We miss you Mr. Aquila!” Several students hold up a large banner that says “Come Back Soon!”

Marcus smiles and blushes a furious shade of red as the video cuts off.

“They wanted to do this since going back for a visit might be a bit overwhelming for you. You touch a lot of people’s lives every day, Marcus. I’m glad they decided to let you know.”

“I just – I don’t even know what to say. I hope I can live up to their expectations, I guess.”

Esca takes a risk and places his hand on Marcus’s knee. “They’re behind you, no matter what happens, Marcus. All you have to do is be yourself; that’s all they want from you. That’s why they love you.” _That’s why I love you_

Marcus stands up and Esca does as well. He takes a step back and ducks his head, feeling shame pool in his stomach at his physical advance. He feels like a prize idiot; he shouldn’t have touched Marcus.

To his surprise, Marcus grabs Esca’s arm and pulls him forward into a hug. Esca closes his eyes and wraps his arms around Marcus’s body, inhales the clean scent of Marcus’s neck. “Thanks, Esca,” Marcus says. “Thank you for being here for me and reminding me of who I am. I’m glad to have someone like you in my life.”

Esca writes the heavy pull of Marcus’s strong arms, the feel of his stubble against Esca’s cheek, the tickle of his hair on Esca’s nose into his memory for fear he won’t feel it again. “You saw the video. Why wouldn’t I want to care for someone like you?”

Marcus loosens his hold a bit. “Okay, okay, enough with the feelings. I’ve got some chicken in the oven. Ready for supper?”

Esca lets go, his fingers reluctant to leave the body-warm cotton of Marcus’s t-shirt. “Starving.”

~*~

It’s Friday. Esca shrugs his tense shoulders on the drive home, trying to relieve some of the built-up stress. He’s too glad that this god-awful week is over; it felt like the longest week of his life. He’d had to put in several late nights crunching numbers and running reports for two clients and had to give not one but two presentations today. He’s glad to do the work that he does and enjoys making the world a greener place but can definitely do without these long nights and mentally taxing days. Next week is an easy schedule, and he’s glad for that.

He’s also glad to be driving home to Marcus.

Every night of the past week and a half, Marcus lights up when Esca comes home, and Esca looks forward to seeing his smile all day. Even if their relationship isn’t the same, Marcus is still the same person. He always has dinner ready when Esca comes home and asks Esca to tell him more about himself while they eat. Afterwards, Marcus wants to get out and do something – sometimes go for a run, even in the cold weather, sometimes they head over to the Recreation Center, and one time Marcus found snowshoes and insisted they go try them out.

When Esca walks through the door, he can feel the steam of the shower in the air heavy with the scent of Marcus’s musky-smelling shower gel. “Hey!” Marcus calls from the bedroom. “Be right out.”

“No rush,” Esca says while taking off his suit jacket and tie. He never wears such things unless he’s giving a presentation and is glad to get out of his formal clothes. He’s down to his undershirt when Marcus walks in and runs an eye over Esca’s arms and chest, lingering on the tattoo on Esca’s right arm, then glances quickly toward the kitchen. The back of his neck flushes pink.

“I didn’t have time to make dinner. Went for a run instead. Is pizza okay?”

“Sounds good. How long was your run?”

“I took out the laptop and planned a route. Did a six-mile run.”

“Six miles? You haven’t had a run like that since before the accident. You must be knackered.”

“Yeah. I feel good, though. It’s a good kind of tired.”

Esca orders the large pepperoni and green pepper that they usually purchase. Marcus selects their film for that night, _Slumdog Millionaire_. They turn the lights off and the film flicks light across the dark living room. When the pizza arrives, they pause it briefly.

The sky outside fades to purple as the sun sets, and Esca feels a sleepy lull after he’s finished eating. He likes the film but has seen it several times, and when he looks over, Marcus is still watching with heavy-lidded eyes. Esca props his legs up on the middle cushion for comfort, minding not to get too close to Marcus. Marcus, though, doesn’t seem too bothered, as he gathers his knees up and leans over to his right, close to Esca’s legs. Esca smiles a bit; if Marcus wants to lean closer, that’s fine by him.

Somewhere in the middle of two Indian boys stealing rides from trains, Esca starts having some sleep nods. He shakes his head and tries to sit up straight, but after five minutes, he succumbs to the end of an exhausting week and a full belly and falls right asleep.

Some time later, Esca blinks his eyes open. The TV’s blue light glows on the ceiling; the DVD’s long been off. At some point he stretched fully across the couch, but something else gains his attention.

Marcus is laying half on top of him, arm flung protectively over Esca’s chest, sleeping heavily. The weight is warm and familiar. Esca’s left hand is asleep, and immediately he thinks he should pull away quietly as Marcus would probably be ashamed waking like this, but the more selfish part of Esca has missed this physical contact. He breathes a silent prayer that Marcus will not wake and risks placing his hand on Marcus’s lower back, sleep-warm skin radiating heat through his shirt.

Marcus moves, not quite awake and not quite asleep, and runs his hand down Esca’s side. He shifts his body and presses the hard line of his erection against Esca’s hip, thrusting against it once. For a thrilling moment, Esca thinks _he’s back, finally, my Marcus,_ and tilts his head to the left to meet Marcus’s lips.

Marcus wakes fully, eyes focusing on Esca’s, and his face washes over panic. He scrambles back off the couch as fast as he can, looking down at the carpet as he mutters an apology. “Shit, Esca, I’m sorry. I just fell asleep and-”

“It’s okay, Marcus,” Esca tries to think of something, anything he could say to get Marcus back in his arms.

But that won’t happen, not as Marcus continues apologizing to the carpet. “I don’t know what happened. Must have been wiped out from that run. Sorry, man. I’ll just,” he points his thumb back over his shoulder toward the bedroom. “I’m off to bed. Night.”

“Night,” Esca says to Marcus’s back.

Later, when Esca takes his cock in his hand, he imagines that Marcus didn’t stop thrusting against his hip, that he took Esca’s mouth in a kiss, that they rubbed and stroked each other until they both came over Esca’s belly.

Esca spills over his fist and cleans it up quietly. At some point, Marcus will not back away from Esca; he will give himself over to Esca in the same manner he did five years ago. Esca is a patient man, and he will wait as long as it takes.

~*~

Two weeks pass, and as Esca turns the doorknob, he expects the usual routine: he walks in the door, takes off his shoes, the smell of dinner wafts out at him, and Marcus calls from the kitchen, _Hey, I’m trying a roast today_ , or _Dude, you’re just in time to try all of the stuff I threw in the slow cooker this morning_.

Today he walks in and sees Marcus seated at the dining table with his back to Esca, looking at the laptop. A video plays on the screen, and Marcus double-clicks to enlarge it.

It’s the video from their holiday six months ago to Antigua, and it’s not a vanilla, family-friendly recording.  
 _Bloody fucking shit._ Esca’s heart drops to his stomach as he walks quickly over, hoping he can get Marcus to shut the sodding thing off as rapidly as possible. “Ah, mate, that’s nothing, that’s just this holiday we took-”

On the screen, Esca appears on the beach and flips Marcus the two fingers. “That’s not polite,” Marcus’s voice says offscreen.

“You can spank me later,” Esca says back, grinning wickedly.

“Careful what you wish for, you naughty thing.” Marcus says lasciviously.

The next shot is Marcus in bed, holding the camera turned backward on himself. He lays bare-chested, and then Esca comes sliding up next to his side, flinging his arm over Marcus. “Happy anniversary, baby,” Esca says against Marcus’s throat.

“I love you,” Marcus says into Esca’s messy hair.

Marcus exits out of the video, staring at the blank screen. His brow furrows, his face turns red, and one hand balls up into a fist. Confusion, anger, and hurt all show on his face.

Esca backpedals, trying to think of how to explain this clusterfuck. “Marcus-” he tries. “I’m so sorry. I couldn’t tell you, because-”

“How long has this been going on?” Marcus gestures toward the laptop – the evidence of their relationship. He turns to face Esca but doesn’t look him in the eye.

“Over four years.”

“Why did you lie to me?” Marcus spits out.

“Because I didn’t want to hurt you. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Marcus stands up abruptly. “Well, congratulations. You’ve done both. I don’t know who you are, and now I’m not sure I want to know.”

Before Esca can stop him, Marcus grabs his phone and keys and leaves, slamming the door behind him.

Esca stares at the door, feeling broken - shattered into a million shards of glass.

 

~*~

Esca has no idea what to do. He’s fucked up beyond the point of no return, so he does the only thing he can think of – he dials Cottia over and over, lets it ring, hangs up on her voicemail, and calls again until she finally picks up.

“I’m hanging in a sex swing right now, Esca. This better fucking be good, or else-”

“Marcus found the Antigua video on the laptop.”

A beat of silence passes. “Oh. Fuck.”

“Right, oh fuck. He took off, and I assumed it was either to you or Uncle Aquila.”

“Well, I haven’t heard from him yet.” She holds her mouth away from the receiver for a moment: _Oh, fuck_ off _Steven and help me out of this thing._. “Sorry about that. Have you heard from Uncle Aquila yet?”

“No. I was hoping Marcus would’ve called you.” Esca swallows. “He said he doesn’t want to know me.”

“Oh. Honey. He didn’t mean that. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know, I understand why he said it. But I just feel so – helpless.”

“Don’t you think on it. Find something to do to distract yourself. I’ll be out the door in ninety seconds. Let me handle it, okay?”

“Okay. Just, tell him that – tell him I’m sorry.”

“I will. Now tell me what you’re going to do for the next hour.”

Esca stands up and looks around. “Clean.”

“Fantastic. Make your place spotless. Focus on that. I’ll call you soon.”

“Thanks, Cottia.”

“You’re welcome, honey.”

The phone clicks, and Esca stares at it for a moment before clearing his mind, walking to the kitchen and grabbing the spray and a rag and heading for the bookshelves. He pulls down every single book, wipes down the shelves, and dusts each item before carefully replacing it.

He pours his attention into the repetitiveness of the motion and wipes down both of the wall shelves, the end tables, and TV stand before his phone vibrates in his pocket.

Cottia talks the second he hits the button. “He’s at his uncle’s house. I talked with him for a bit and he just needs to sort things out. I know how much this is going to hurt, and I hate to have to tell you this, but you’re going to have to give him some time.”

Esca swallows. “I don’t know what to do with this mess, Cottia. Tell me what to do.”

Cottia pauses for a moment. “He will come back to you. His memories will come back. He’s in love with you, and he will be again. Love will find a way, Esca.”

Esca slides down the wall and sits on the floor. “You’re a diamond, Cottia. Really, you are.”

“Love you too, babe. Talk to you soon.”

Esca slides his phone back into his pocket, picks the rag back up, and wipes down every possible surface in the flat.

While he cleans, he thinks of his most special memories with Marcus. He remembers them one by one: their first row (when they took a wrong turn driving to Chicago), spending Christmas with Uncle Aquila, the time the wine rack broke and a bottle of red spilled everywhere, the first time Marcus introduced Esca as his boyfriend to Uncle Aquila, then to his colleagues, their first morning together as a couple when Marcus made him scrambled eggs and bacon, spending a snowy Valentine’s Day in a cabin in front of a fire, and the first time Marcus let Esca fuck him – he was so beautiful and trusting.

With each memory, Esca sends them out to Marcus. He wishes there was a way to upload them into Marcus’s head, but he does his best to send them out into the universe and hopes that they might find their way to Marcus.

~*~

By the end of the week, the bathroom tiles sparkle in the light, the light fixtures have been cleaned out, the silverware has been polished, the kitchen floor is mopped even behind the refrigerator and stove, and the curtains have all been washed.

When Cottia comes to visit him the following Wednesday, Esca’s rearranging the living room furniture.

“Esca,” she says, sitting on the sofa in order to make him put it down, “if you don’t stop I’m gonna have to kick your ass. We both know how that will turn out, so just sit down and breathe for a minute, okay?”

He skips over her question. “How is he?” he asks as he sits on the sofa next to her.

She takes his hand between hers. Her hair falls over her shoulders in red waves, and her smile reaches her green eyes. She looks like joy. “I have some good news for you. I’ve been visiting Marcus every day, and he’s been getting his memories back.”

A warm feeling of happiness blooms in his chest and he pulls her into his arms. She lets out a surprised yelp. “Finally, thank god! When did he start getting them?”

“On Saturday. He called me and just said, ‘I remember, Cottia.’”

“What? What did he remember?”

Cottia picks up Esca’s phone on the table and hands it to him. “He wants you to call him. He wants to tell you himself.”

Esca cups her face with one hand, leans in and kisses her cheek, then holds down _1_ on the keypad until it dials Marcus.

Marcus picks up and says, “Hey baby. I’m on my way home.”

The endearment sends Esca up on his feet. “You are?” He still feels cautious, not wanting to slip up again, just in case it isn’t real.

“Yeah. I am. Get Cottia out of there and get ready, Monkey. We’ve got a long night ahead of us.” Marcus ends the call.

Esca smiles so hard it hurts. _Monkey_. When Esca first obtained his job as a consultant, he’d been so excited coming home to Marcus after work during that first week that he’d wrap his arms around Marcus’s neck, jump up and wrap his legs around Marcus’s waist. _Have a good day then, Monkey?_

Esca looks at Cottia. He pulls her to him and does a little dance with her, twirls her once, dips her, and kisses her cheek as he holds her in his arms. “Sorry darling. You’re going to have to leave.”

“I figured. And I’ve never been so happy to be kicked out.”

He pulls her upright and hugs her. She smells like jasmine. “I love you.”

“I know you do, honey,” she says. “Don’t break each other tonight, okay? You’ve got the rest of your lives to make up for all of this.”

“Nothing will get broken, ever again. Thank you for everything.”

“Anytime.” She disentangles herself from his arms and as she’s walking out the door, makes a rude gesture with her hand and mouth.

“Fuck off, you slag!” he laughs as she shuts the door.

As soon as the door’s closed Esca takes the speediest shower of his life. He wants to be a clean Monkey for Marcus, after all.

~*~

The window curtains are open, and Esca watches as the snow falls gently to the ground, sticking in a loose white power. It coats the tree branches and cars and mud, making everything pure and white again.

Through the falling snow, he sees Marcus bounding up the stairs. He feels wild, anxious, and nervous with uncertainty, not knowing what to expect as Marcus opens the door and closes it behind him. He holds his ground and lets Marcus make the first move.

Marcus approaches Esca and doesn’t stop; he keeps walking until he’s crowded Esca back against the hallway wall. “Esca,” he says softly, cups Esca’s chin and leans down to kiss along Esca’s jaw.

Esca lets himself be pinned against the wall, savouring the pressure of Marcus’s bulk against him. It’s as if Marcus is anchoring him to the world; a physical assurance that he’s there and not leaving. “I missed you,” Esca says as he wraps his arms around Marcus.

Marcus drags his lips over Esca’s skin, smooth from shaving. “Esca, what you did for me,” he says against Esca’s jaw. “I’m so sorry I had to put you through that. So sorry that I walked out on you.” Marcus’s hand runs down Esca’s side and closes on the denim of his hip as he kisses Esca’s neck.

“Don’t apologize,” Esca tries to lift Marcus’s chin to meet his eyes. “I’d do anything for you. You know that, right?”

“I know, baby,” Marcus says as he returns his lips to Esca’s neck. “Just... let me do this for you, okay?” He wedges his knee between Esca’s and rubs his palm down the bulge forming in Esca’s jeans.

Everything narrows to Marcus’s hand cupping his cock and Esca wants to close his eyes but looks at Marcus because finally, _finally_ his Marcus is here, in front of him, sinking to his knees. And Marcus looking up at him with his mouth sinfully close to Esca’s crotch is one sight that Esca does not care to miss.

Marcus slides the button open and unzips Esca’s jeans, yanking them down hard until they’re around the middle of Esca’s thighs. He leans forward and mouths the white fabric of Esca’s briefs, pressing his lips against the base of Esca’s cock. He kisses his way up to the head and it feels so good and so frustrating because Esca wants to feel Marcus’s mouth on the skin of his cock, but it seems as though Marcus wants to take his time.

The fabric of Esca’s briefs become wet with Marcus’s saliva as he continues to mouth the hard line of Esca’s cock. “Marcus, please,” Esca whimpers when Marcus starts rubbing Esca’s balls.

“Always liked hearing you beg, you know,” Marcus says as he pulls down Esca’s briefs. “You look so pretty when you say please.” Esca thinks of the times he’s begged for more, for Marcus’s cock, begged to come.

Thankfully, Marcus doesn’t drag it out and pulls the damp briefs down. Esca’s cock springs out and taps Marcus’s chin. Marcus chuckles. “Eager?”

Esca huffs a laugh and pulls his cock off of Marcus’s face. “That’s your own fault, you know.”

“I would hope so.” Marcus wraps his lips around each of Esca’s balls, tonguing each one before licking up his shaft then swallowing his cock down to the root.

“Sweet mother Mary,” Esca says as his head lolls back against the wall. His hands search for something to hang onto as Marcus starts working his mouth up and down Esca’s cock, tonguing the head when he pulls back before sucking his way back down. There’s nothing, so Esca takes hold of Marcus’s hair, letting Marcus set the pace.

Marcus stills and cups Esca’s asscheek. When Esca doesn’t move he pulls off of Esca’s dick, and it hits his cheek wetly. “Go ahead baby,” Marcus presses a kiss to Esca’s bobbing cock. “Fuck my mouth.”

“God, yes,” Esca says as he takes hold of his cock and feeds it into Marcus’s mouth. Marcus opens as Esca slides himself back and forth over the softness of Marcus’s tongue, fucking into Marcus’s eager mouth. This is what he’s wanted this whole time- what he’s missed: Marcus on his knees, so wanton after years of Esca opening Marcus’s sexuality.

Esca feels his balls tightening as he thrusts, and he looks down at Marcus, so fucking hot with his dark pink lips stretched around Esca’s cock. “Gonna come,” Esca breathes, and Marcus latches his arms behind Esca’s ass, sucking him down as Esca shoots into the heat of Marcus’s mouth.

Marcus holds Esca in place as he rides his orgasm, shaking as each wave hits him. Gently he pulls off Esca’s cock and kisses it once. “I missed you too, Monkey.”

Esca smiles and helps Marcus up to his feet, kissing him and sliding his tongue into Marcus’s mouth. He tastes the salt of his own come and moans against Marcus’s lips. “I think you should take Monkey to the bedroom and fuck him till the sun rises.”

Marcus kisses the tip of Esca’s nose. “I like the way you think.”

~*~

The rest of the night is a reintroduction: the slow removal of clothes, fingers moving over bare skin, etching new stories over the old like an ancient palimpsest.

Marcus takes his time with this; he licks Esca open and fingers his hole, tonguing around his fingers until Esca’s left panting and thrusting against the bed. It’s fantastic and madding and not enough. “Please, fuck, god, fuck me, Marcus.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” Marcus says, three fingers stretching Esca open. He presses a kiss to Esca’s asscheek. “All you had to do is ask nicely, baby.”

When Marcus pulls his fingers out Esca groans at the loss and twists his hips against the bed, desperate for the friction. The lube cap snaps open and he looks back to watch Marcus slicking his cock. He remembers three years ago rushing to the clinic with Marcus after he had panted against Esca’s cheek _I want to feel you. Want to know how you feel against my cock._. Since getting the negative results, they’ve been fucking each other without a condom.

When Esca feels the pressure of Marcus’s cock against his hole, he bites his lip and fists the covers. It’s been months since Esca’s been fucked, at first because of the accident and in previous months Marcus always asked to be fucked, so the stretch hurts a bit at first.

Marcus sinks his cock slowly, though, and kisses Esca’s shoulder. “God, you’re trembling,” he says, and Esca hadn’t even realized it. Marcus pulls out and wraps his hand around Esca’s hip. “I want to see you.” Marcus wraps an arm under his belly and Esca lets Marcus manhandle him, flipping him over.

Marcus pushes a pillow under Esca’s hips and pulls Esca’s legs over his shoulders. He kisses Esca’s ankle and rubs a hand down his shin; his leg hair rasps against Marcus’s palm.

Marcus lines up his cock and pushes in slowly. He leans down to put his forehead against Esca’s and rocks his hips, fucking into Esca unhurriedly with tiny thrusts. “I’m sorry baby.” He cups Esca’s cheek and kisses him. “I’m sorry that I hurt you.” He rocks into Esca, shallow and tender.

“You didn’t know. It’s okay,” Esca says. He touches Marcus, hands sliding up his arms, over his broad shoulders, one sliding up into his hair.

Marcus kisses him long and deep, and then sits up, grabbing Esca’s hips. He fucks into Esca hard once, twice, the hot slide of Marcus’s cock hitting Esca’s prostate, sending white-hot pleasure all over him. Marcus reaches for Esca’s cock, stroking it as he fucks Esca hard enough that sends Esca sliding up the bed a bit.

Esca’s toes curl and he feels his balls tightening. He looks down to see his cockhead poking out from Marcus’s fist as he strips Esca’s cock, and that’s all it takes - he comes, shooting over his belly and chest. Marcus gasps then freezes, twisting his hips against Esca’s ass, and Esca feels the throb of Marcus’s cock as he comes deep inside of Esca.

They’re both shaking, and Marcus pulls out, searching immediately for a towel. He wobbles a bit when he gets off the bed.

“Whoa, hey, come here,” Esca says and steadies Marcus, helping him back to the bed. He locates two towels, handing one off to Marcus and laying one down on the bed for himself. He lies down next to Marcus and pulls him across his chest. Marcus settles across him, and his trembling stops. “I’ve got you. I’ve always got you, my darling.”

Esca plays with Marcus’s hair for a bit, and eventually Marcus’s breathing slows until he’s snoring softly. Esca looks to the window. The snow falls gently outside still, coating everything white as Esca falls asleep.

~*~

Esca wakes and looks at the clock. The red numbers 11:14 p.m. are bleary through his sleepy eyes. They’ve been asleep around two hours, then, Esca figures. Marcus has shifted away from him, no doubt to seek the cooler blankets of the other side of the bed. “You awake?” Marcus asks.

“Just woke up,” Esca says, his voice gravelly with sleep.

Marcus turns to face him, and Esca can barely make out the shape of his head in the dark light. “Good, ‘cause I’m hungry. Let’s make some food.”

They throw on some pyjamas and Marcus bakes a frozen pizza. Esca sits at the table, watching Marcus’s back as he cuts the crust.

“So what was it like?” Esca asks as rises and takes out plates and napkins. “I mean, getting your memories back. What happened?”

Marcus serves their slices and they sit down at the table. “Well,” he says after eating some of his pizza, “it was like this disjointed movie started playing in my head. Like, my memories came back scene by scene, but all random.”

“What were some of the first things you started to remember?”

Marcus thinks about it. “First they were from when I was still closeted, before we started dating. I remember being holed up in my dorm with my laptop and arranging these shady meetings with guys whose faces I can’t remember. I sucked off one guy in his bedroom, one in a fraternity room, and other in the nasty stall of the gay club. I remember,” Marcus swallows heavily and his eyes drop to the floor. Esca reaches out, takes Marcus’s hand and squeezes it. “I remember being on my knees and it was always dark. I remember feeling like that – dark and ashamed of myself because of how much I wanted it.”

“Hey,” Esca says and squeezes Marcus’s hand hard. Marcus looks up. “You’re not that person anymore, okay? You’ve come a long way. Those acts do not define you. This,” Esca holds up their joined hands, “this is what matters.”

When Marcus smiles a bit and Esca feels relieved. “What else did you remember?”

Marcus runs his thumb over the back of Esca’s hand. “I remember when Dr. Sharp paired us as peer editors when we had to write the paper on _Persuasion_. You gave me a once-over and looked irritated. I knew it was because I never talked in class, because I’m better at writing my thoughts out instead of discussion. I was just shy, I guess. So I understood why you were irritated.”

“But then I got to know you,” Esca lifts Marcus’s hand to his mouth and kisses his knuckles.

“I remembered you coming over all the time. First we’d study, then you’d hang out and we’d talk or watch a movie. I remembered when you first kissed me on the couch.” Marcus’s shy smile lights up his face, and warmth spreads through Esca at the memory. “I wanted it so bad that night. We were watching a marathon of _Mythbusters_ and I can’t even remember what they were testing because you sat so close to me that all I could think about was how much I wanted you. And finally you leaned in, and said against my ear, ‘think those two are shagging?’, and the moment I turned my head your lips were on mine.”

Esca stands, pulls Marcus to his feet and kisses him, lingering for a moment before pulling back.

“I remembered everything.” Marcus says as he wraps his arms around Esca’s back pulls Esca flush against him. “I sat at Uncle’s house with Cottia and told her how wrecked I was about walking out on you. I know why you pretended we were just roommates. I know you were trying to protect me. You’re so good, Esca.”

“I told you before.” Esca lays his head against Marcus’s chest. “I’d do anything for you.”

“How about coming to bed with me?”

“The dishes-”

“Forget the dishes. They can wait till tomorrow.”

Marcus takes Esca’s hand and leads him down the hallway. They hold each other and talk about having Cottia and Placidus over for dinner that weekend, about when Marcus would be comfortable going back to work, visiting Uncle Aquila together, and when Marcus reaches down and traces his fingertips along the curves of Esca’s ass, they stop talking altogether. It’s slow and lazy this time, and eventually Esca rides Marcus’s cock, clutching the headboard as Marcus grabs his hips and twists his hips up against Esca’s ass. Esca could care less if they’re waking the neighbours as the headboard slams against the wall with each thrust.

Afterward, Esca lies across Marcus’s chest. The night sky grows purple and the sun wipes out the stars from the sky as it kisses the horizon. A sparrow sings its song while Marcus traces the skin of Esca’s back. Esca’s eyes feel grainy with the effort of staying awake all night, and his limbs are heavy with the want of sleep. He can feel the outline of what Marcus is drawing on his back: a heart. Marcus draws the pattern over and over, and as Marcus repeats it, Esca falls into a heavy, sated sleep.

That night, he dreams of Antigua.


End file.
